


Meditation and Tea, or Jim and Spock's Lazy Mornings

by AlyssiaInWonderland



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/F, Female Jim, Female Spock, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Its not angst I swear, Lazy Mornings, Space Husbands, Space Wives, Telepathic Bond, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vulcan Culture, Well - Freeform, but like its only really brief, fem spirk, for now its just here, if i find them i'll make this a gift fic, this is a requested thing but idk who they are on Ao3, this is just a cute fluffy thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 04:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11501613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssiaInWonderland/pseuds/AlyssiaInWonderland
Summary: Jim and Spock are on shore leave and share a quiet morning together.That's literally it. Just some cute fem-spirk fluff!





	Meditation and Tea, or Jim and Spock's Lazy Mornings

Jim’s consciousness slowly surfaced from the final layer of sleep she had been clinging to, feeling the sensation of warm sunlight on the side of her face. She took a moment to adjust to her awareness, the weight of the blanket on her body and the soft hum in the back of her mind that was her bond with Spock. Lazily, she brushed her mind against the bond, and received a fond nudge in return, before Spock’s mind returned to a careful presence. Spock was meditating. Jim could recognise the tranquillity and introspection in her mind, and she smiled a little as she opened her eyes, turning her gaze to where she knew Spock would be sitting, cross legged with her back to the window.

The rising sun streamed through the ceiling-to-floor French doors in their house, the light tinging Spock’s long dark hair with a halo of orange. Dust danced above her head, and the oblique angle made the shadows of her eyelashes fan out on her cheekbones. The sight of her never failed to take Jim’s breath away. Her expression was serene, and her angular features were gentled by the morning light. She wore a tight-fitting, too-short yellow tank top, borrowed from Jim’s sports clothing collection, and black leggings, though her feet were bare. Her skin was dusted with a slight green blush, and a few freckles. She was focussed on her meditation, and Jim took a moment to appreciate the peace. She felt like this was one of those moments, that froze in a tableau of sun-soaked happiness; an incandescent freeze-frame of shore leave amidst their chaotic lives.

 

Presently, Jim pushed aside the covers and stood, rolling her shoulders and neck quietly. She tugged her side of the covers up to meet Spock’s already made half, though she could never match the precision of her girlfriend’s military hospital corners. She padded to the bathroom, her knee catching on the covers and rumpling them again, but she failed to notice. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with one hand, while the other sought out her toothbrush and toothpaste, completing the task one-handed with practised ease. She ran a hand through her tousled brown-blonde hair in an attempt to make it neater; she knew from experience that brushing it would simply cause it to become more voluminous, and so filled with static that she would have to avoid any and all metal surfaces. She washed her face, the cool water rejuvenating her and bringing her to a state that somewhat resembled alertness. She patted her face down with a towel, a few droplets of water trickling down her wrists to her elbows, and she wrinkled her face in annoyance, wiping her elbows on Spock’s oversized blue t-shirt, which she had pilfered some time ago into her sleepwear.

Ablutions complete, she quietly pulled on some black shorts and made her way to the kitchen, setting on the kettle and pulling out two mugs. She pulled out a slightly battered cardboard box, a tiny scoop and two tea-leaf infusers. She carefully put a single scoop of the mixture of bark and tea leaves into each infuser, and placed them in the mugs, folding away the box and scoop neatly. She had to jump slightly to reach up and push the box back in place in the cupboard. The kettle clicked off, and she poured in the hot water, waiting a while for the Vulcan tea to brew. It was an acquired taste; she removed the infuser from her own mug after a few minutes, but left Spock’s in. Her girlfriend’s tastes ran to the bitter side of the Vulcan tea, having been brought up on it, while Jim preferred the lighter flavour from a few minutes steeping.

 

She had first tried the tea in an attempt to feel closer to Spock, and now it had become a routine, a little tradition of theirs. Sometimes, on the days when her nightmares were bad, Spock would wake her and guide her into a meditation, and help keep her in a calm mind-set until they could share the Vulcan tea and talk or share comfort. When Spock had a bad day, a particularly ignorant comment about half-Vulcans and their ilk, or when the residual effects from losing Vulcan and her father were ringing in Spock’s head, Jim would gently tap her arms and shoulders to bring her into reality, and they would sit with Vulcan tea and share their grief at the cruelty of the world. And some days, were days like today, when they could rise and operate like a well-maintained warp core. Spock would move out of bed and meditate, sensing Jim’s mind as it slipped closer to wakefulness and letting the calm seep slightly into her, and Jim would make them Vulcan tea to share in a common experience.

She could feel Spock’s mind stirring from meditation, and she took her cue to re-enter the bedroom, carrying both mugs. She moved over to Spock, placing the steaming mugs on the side-table and kneeling behind her, draping her arms lightly over her girlfriend’s shoulders and resting her chin on her shoulder. Spock leaned back slightly into the embrace, her eyes fluttering open.  
  
“Good morning, cutie.” Jim impulsively kissed Spock’s cheek, and Spock looked at Jim in a combination of amusement and confusion.  
  
“Good morning, Jim.” Spock turned her head to press a soft kiss to Jim’s lips, and her eyes fluttered shut again for a moment, the sensation rushing through her and curling her lips into a smile. “Vulcans are not cute.”

“Well, this Vulcan is.” Jim retorted, with no real heat, and shuffled across to collect the mugs.

 

Jim handed Spock her mug, and they sat cross-legged, facing each other, knees lightly touching. Jim took a sip of tea, holding the mug in one hand while the other reached for Spock’s spare one. They touched fingertips, their hands interlacing.

“Thank you for the tea.” Spock lightly squeezed her partner’s hand, before resting their hands on Jim’s knee.

“You’re welcome, as always, Spock.” Jim smiled, the sun lighting in her smile and catching in her hair, shimmering in gold and brass.

 

Jim’s hair was messy, her slight curls wreaking havoc and tumbling past her face and shoulders, and Spock’s blue t-shirt was wrinkled beyond hope of rescue. Her legs and arms were scattered with bruises from various planet-side missions, and her face was an open book, her smile and eyes warm. Spock was acutely conscious of just how fragile her human girlfriend was, and every time she saw the evidence of this, it collided forcibly in her mind with the stubborn jut of her jaw, the sheer force of determination and charisma that drove Jim Kirk to become the Captain of Starfleet’s flagship. With each moment they spent together, Spock could feel herself fall a little more in love. She knew that she was likely broadcasting her thoughts with both her mind and her expression, and the most telling part of it all was that she did not care that she was doing so. Spock sipped her tea, setting it down to let it steep a little more, and used her now free hand to press a Vulcan kiss to Jim’s temple.

Jim smiled at the action, the distraction causing her mug to tilt dangerously before she caught it. She could feel Spock’s affection and open love in her mind, and it prompted a rising wave of returned fondness, that echoed through the bond. A sense of calm and peace washed through them, reminiscent of meditation. They didn’t need words to feel the unconditional love that they shared. The knowledge of it surrounded them with ease, permeating the air with every moment and seeping into them with every breath. It felt something like what Jim imagined a true home must be. Security, safety, and the certainty that no matter what happened, she would love Spock and Spock would love her. She knew that Spock felt a fierce sense of protective care, and anger at those who had abused her in the past; and Spock knew that Jim would fight anyone to protect her in turn.

 

Eventually, the day would finish dawning, and there would be tasks to do. But for now they stayed, lost in each other, until the tea fell cold and the sunlight streaming from the window disturbed them with its growing heat.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was enjoyable!
> 
> As ever, please feed the author with kudos and comments!! <3 I love you all, thanks for reading :)


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